The Shiver: Book 1 of the Dim Light Series
by Spottedeyes
Summary: Disease has struck the clans, and with no cure, many lives are lost by each sunset. When the clans have nearly gone, hanging on with less than ten cats per clan, desperation sinks in. Bloodlines don't matter anymore, anyone is welcome.
1. Chapter 1

Prelude:

Frost clung to the lengthy grasses that surrounded the hilly moorland, glistening beneath the generous glow of a brooding full moon. A light wind with a big voice scraped over the landscape, ruffling all that it touched with its ragged claws. The night was set.

Within a scoop of land, a long-furred cat laid, her belly pressed against the ice-glazed ground in a vain attempt to keep from the wind's harsh grasp. Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder why her ancestors thought the moorland was adequate territory to thrive within. Other times, she looked her figure over in the puddles that pooled around his camp, wondering how she fit into such a clan; the clan of loyal, nimble, and swift thinkers, as she was not any of those things. She did not have short, coarse wiry fur. She did not have small, delicate paws with thick and durable pads. She did not have the dome-shaped ears that her peers did. She did not have wide, owl-like irises. She did not have an exceptionally lengthy tail. She would freeze under pressure in battle. She would tuck tail and run sloppily away if it was her pelt or a clanmate's. She would stumble when she ran. Perhaps that's why she chose the path of a medicine cat.

She shuffled uncomfortably in her nest, wondering if she had been birthed to another she-cat in another clan, if she would be a treasured warrior or maybe a prized huntress. She wondered if just maybe she wouldn't have guilt weighting on her conscious, that maybe if a more qualified kit would have volunteered itself, that her clan wouldn't have lost four clanmates in one day.

It was a bad set of moons to be a medicine cat

The sickness would creep on slow with a bought of depression. It would all snowball from there. Infected cats would be put off food, lethargic, and dehydrated, but they would request no water. Then, they'd start the trademark symptom: shivering. Their throats would swell and breathing would slow to desperate pants followed by their body convulsing into uncontrollable shaking, always in that order. The most terrifying part of it though, had to be either the twitching eyeballs or the madness that would overcome them, that's when they'd start to bite and claw at whoever was around them.

The Shiver wreaked havoc throughout all four clans, taking dramatic numbers of irreplaceable lives. Each clan would cope and deal with The Shiver in different ways.

RiverClan would banish the infected as soon as depression set in; ThunderClan's remedy was a hearty dose of death-berries; ShadowClan originally slaughtered the infected, which only boosted the number of the infected, so they took on ThunderClan's method; and WindClan, her clan… they kept to their moto of loyalty. No WindClanners would be slaughtered, poisoned further, or exiled. No, no, they were kept in abandoned underground tunnels beneath the medicine cats' hollow, for her to deal with. They were always offered fresh-kill on a daily basis, water was provided constantly, and their bedding was to be changed as often as any other patient's would.

She was not loyal like the rest, she wanted them to be gone, as there was no point in putting herself at such risk for infection. Besides, there wasn't a cure, no, death was the cure. She was tired of staying awake during the night, watching the tunnel entrances with great unease, as they were unblocked at all times and guarded only by her. Any mentally ill cat could stalk up to her area and maul her, give her The Shiver too, and that in itself drove her crazy.

She purred in sick amusement; oh, if only they all knew… if only they knew Buzzardpaw had already done it, bitten her sunrises before. If only they paid enough mind to her to see that she hadn't been eating for days and days and days… if only they knew what loyalty was going to cost them.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1:

**But first, responses:**

**_Amberstorm233: Hey Amber! It's been a while, hasn't it? Glad to see you're still on FF! I sort of took a break… hehe… _**

**123CocoLee: Thanks! And don't worry, this chapter's longer! Sorry 'bout that, and with the detail, I try (; **

**Back to the actual chapter…**

Three forms slithered through a dark, eerie alleyway, moving carefully as to not cause a ruckus. The typical scents of the Twoleg-Place caused all three of them to wrinkle their noses and move quicker as though they could escape the scent within the blink of an eye. All but one slunk deeper at the caterwauls of twoleg monsters, holding his head a little higher as though to assert his fearlessness.

The bravest one, the leader, stepped into a dim patch of artificial light. The young tom-cat's thin coat was a caramel-color adorned with deep chocolate splotches along his spine and his ears and tail were an even darker brown. The brown tom's eyes were a yellowy-amber that pierced through the murky alleyway.

Another followed suit, a she-cat of a slender build. Her pelt too was a light tan-color, however she had no patches along her back, instead her face, paws, and tail were painted a dark brown. Her irises were a cold, dulled amber. Her long whiskers fanned out from her muzzle to frame her muzzle.

The last cat slunk out last. He stood on tall, skinny legs with a brownish-black pelt and no additional markings other than one lightly colored hind leg. His eyes were too big for his face and tinged a light orangey-yellow. He seemed to bounce with every step he took.

The lead tom stopped and sat back on his haunches, glancing behind at the other two. "Sandy and Rosie will be coming here shortly, until then, we will wait." He spoke curtly.

"Why are we meeting them again?" The she-cat muttered, glaring at the tom, her brother. "I mean, if you're looking to flirt with them or something, Wren, I don't think Hawk and I need to be here too."

Wren glared at his sister, "Lark, I am not here to flirt! I, we are here to snoop out information. Sandy's involved with the forest cats, so naturally, she'd know what's going on in there."

This time, Hawk, the tall tom with the spindly legs, spoke, "Then why is Rosie coming? They're not even sisters, and she's a half-time kittypet." He noted, stepping up beside Lark.

Wren bristled, "Because she wants to, that's why, and what does it matter if she's a kittypet?"

Lark gave Wren a knowing look, ignoring his defensive tone, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Shut it, Lark." Wren grumbled, his ears flattening against his skull.

"Guys, they're going to be here any second, do you really want them to see you both going at each other?" Hawk reasoned, stepping between his brother and sister.

Lark and Wren ignored Hawk. "Why do we even care about the forest cats? They're nowhere near here, Wren. We live here, in the twoleg place." Lark scoffed.

Wren snarled at Lark, "Lark, do you really want to stay here forever? Mother lived in the forest when she was young, don't you remember the stories? The forest sounds a whole lot better than this dump does."

Lark cuffed Wren's ears, the unexpected force whipping Wren's head to the side, "It's also disease-ridden, dog-brain! Think!"

Before Wren could retort, Hawk dragged Lark away from Wren. "Stop it!"

Ignoring Hawk, Wren lashed out, lunging at Lark with a snarl; he was not to be outdone by his sister. Lark glowered and raked at his ears while Wren snapped at her shoulder before tackling Lark, wrestling through the twoleg debris that littered the alleyway.

Hawk watched helplessly, shifting on his paws with panic as he struggled to think of how to separate his brother and sister; it was how his mother had wanted it, after all: the hawk looks over the wren and lark. The hawk was the strong one, the hawk was the brave one, the hawk was the combative one, the hawk was the loyal one, the hawk was the leader, the hawk was everything Hawk wasn't. Wren had taken up that role. Their mother was wrong. Hawk couldn't hold his own in a fight, let alone break one up. Especially when it was between cats like Lark, the instigator, and Wren, the warrior. Hawk was the ever bleak optimist.

Lark would start the fights, most often through her sharp, sarcastic words. She would look for trouble, picking only the most irritable dogs and fellow twoleg-place cats. Lark could make even the kindest, most docile of kittypets spit in fury; she called it her gift. And while Lark could start a fight, she couldn't always have the last claw or snap, as she didn't have stamina. She'd make her brother do it for her most of the time, finish the fight she brought to life. Lark was the talker.

Then there was Wren, the one who would do the clawing and biting at the ones Lark started a fight with and couldn't quite finish. His pelt was already decorated heavily with nicks and scars; there was no telling how many he'd have by the time he passed on. Wren would make the decisions, he decided it was time Hawk got useful, so he had him learn from the few elderly cats of the twoleg place about medicine. He decided it was time Lark fought her own battles, so he taught his sister to fight for herself. Wren was the enforcer.

"Wren, Lark, please stop… Come on guys, please," Hawk said feebly, stepping hesitantly towards the fray. Hawk's words did nothing, if anything, the yowls of frustration only grew louder.

"What are you dog-brains doing?" A voice snapped, finally gripping the two siblings' attention.

Hawk sighed in relief as his siblings got back to their paws, Wren shaking debris out from his pelt and Lark glaring at whoever interrupted. A slick-pelted yellowish-brown she-cat stepped into view, a disapproving glower taking up residency in her expression; a younger russet she-cat followed closely behind her, but she didn't speak a word.

"What are you two mange-pelts doing?" The yellow she-cat, Sandy, snapped, stalking closer.

Lark parted her jaws to retort, but Wren spoke first. "We had a fight, Sandy. It happens all the time, it's no big deal." He grumbled, clearly irritated with the older she-cat.

Sandy's whiskers twitched in acknowledgement, but she didn't respond. "So you three want the news on the forest cats?" She asked, steering away from the sibling squabble.

Lark answered rather than Wren, "Why else would we be here?" She purred, a conspicuous under layer of sarcasm dribbling through.

Sandy ignored Lark's tone and glanced at the she-cat at her side. "Rosie, why don't you go stand with them?"

The other young she-cat glanced warily at her companion. "Why?"

"Just go," Sandy insisted, watching with satisfaction when Rosie reluctantly joined the three cats across from her.

Rosie stood beside Wren, "So what's so important that I had to stand over here?"

Sandy's gaze hardened, "The Shiver, the disease that's running around the clans of forest cats, it's killing so many of them every day. Honestly, each group only has five war- adult cats. Most of the kits are gone, and there aren't very many… cats in training either.

"Look, so you know I've been sort of seeing that tom from the group called WindClan, Addertail?" Sandy asked, not waiting for a response, "Well, he just told me that their healer, the medicine cat, Mintfeather, is sick. She's caught the disease, and there's no cure that any of the clans can figure out. Now Addertail's clan is without a medicine cat, and they're so short on cats, that their clan is about as big as our little group is now. I tried to get Addertail to leave with me while he's still healthy, but he's not budging. Apparently, none of his clanmates are. So, I've decided that since Addertail cares so much about his WindClan, I'm joining."

All four of the young cats gaped at Sandy, letting an uncomfortable silence spill over.

Sandy didn't waver, "The leader, Vixenstar, has even already approved of me and given me a name: Sandypelt! Isn't it great? I'm actually going to meet Addertail at the boarder of his territory soon, and I just wanted to ask if, well, maybe you guys would help out and join too. At least Hawk, I mean, WindClan is without a medicine cat now, and Hawk knows his stuff. A-and Rosie, Lark, and Wren, you all would be welcome too. WindClan has the least amount of cats left-"

Wren cut her off with a snarl, "Then why are you trying to drag my brother off to there? They're dying off for a reason, Sandy, you're being ridiculous! And Rosie? Rosie joining the real wildcats? I can't see that happening."

Rosie gave Wren a soft glare, but didn't retort. Hawk was rendered speechless by Sandy's proposal, looking dumbstruck towards Lark to gage her reaction. His sister, surprisingly, looked more upset at Wren's reaction than Sandy's proposal.

"Wren, before she got here, you were going on and on about how you wanted to do more with your life than you are in the twoleg place. Then Sandy says basically the same thing you do, and you freak out on her?" Lark growled, baring her still-white fangs at Wren.

Wren snapped at Lark, "Yeah, I was talking about one of the healthier groups, the moorland cats are the sickest! Why would we go there?"

"Because they need us."

Wren and Lark jerked their attention to Hawk, whose look of shock had ebbed away to reveal pure determination. "What?" Wren asked in disbelief, stepping slowly towards his lengthy brother.

"Sandy's right, Wren. I do know my medicine, I'm… I'm good at it. And maybe, just maybe I'm _meant _to save them all," he started, his tone growing louder, more accusatory, "and maybe you're holding me back. All my life, I've listened to you, Wren. I think we should do this."

A hopeful Sandy spoke, "I-I'm sure Vixenstar would be willing to give you three a test run, you guys could stay over with us for a night or two, see if you like it."

Hawk nodded, ignoring the outraged look on Wren's features. "Okay, I'll go with you."

Rosie glanced at Lark, who watched Wren for a reaction. "Hawk, stop being an idiot, don't go with her, she's got a death wish."

The long-limbed tom stepped beside Sandy, a rare look of triumph glimmering in his amber eyes. "Then looks like I've got a death wish too."

Wren gaped when Lark slunk towards Hawk, standing at his side. "I'm in too, life's getting too predictable here."

Wren shook his head at Lark and Hawk, turning to Rosie, "You're not going, are you?"

"I… I, no. No, I don't think I can, I'm real sorry, Sandy. Tell Addertail I'm sorry, I can't leave Noel, she'd be so lonely at the twoleg nest without me… and I just can't take care of myself like that." Rosie confessed, guilt evident on her features.

"Are you sure?" Sandy asked, "I bet Hawk could train you as his apprentice, then there'd be no pressure to fight or hunt, you'd just have to try to find a cure."

"But that is stressful, even more so than having to everything a normal wild cat would, Sandy. I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't like pressure. I can't be pressured to save lives like that. I'm sorry, I just… I'm just not meant for that lifestyle, and you know that." Rosie responded, her voice gaining conviction.

Sandy sighed, but nodded. "Alright, if that's how you really feel... and what about you, Wren? Are you sure you don't want to at least try? Lark and Hawk are going, so you'll be all alone for at least a few nights. And you know it's getting colder, and you hate staying with Rosie and Noel at the twoleg nest. With that thin fur of yours, it'll be tough to keep warm."

Wren glowered at Sandy, "I'll go, but just to make sure you don't brainwash my siblings. The cold and solitude have nothing to do with it."

Sandy brightened at Wren's spiteful response, her tail curling with delight. "Oh that's wonderful! Addertail's going to be so happy, I mean, he's been so upset lately, what with his friend, Iceclaw's death. All he's wanted lately is to see WindClan make a comeback, really, thank you three. And as for you, Rosie, I hope you'll come around at some point."

Rosie bowed her head in embarrassment, her pelt heating up. "I don't think so, Sandy."

"I don't agree with your decision, but I respect it." Sandy said with a shrug.

Wren looked sympathetically at the half-time kittypet, "Don't worry, Rosie, we'll all be back soon. I'm sure this won't last."

The reddish she-cat looked gratefully at Wren, "Thanks."

Wren looked at Sandy with a steely gaze, "So what? Do we just randomly show up at your stupid boarder, or do we wait through the night first? I'm sure Fox-Whatever wouldn't like a bunch of strangers showing up at her burrow or whatever. Besides, I should probably walk Rosie back to her twoleg nest; we're not in a very safe part of the twoleg place, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to her."

Rosie's fur flushed at Wren's words, "You don't have to do that, Wren."

Wren and Sandy ignored Rosie. "I'll sit here and wait with either Lark or Hawk, you can walk Rosie back and swing back here. I'm sure _Vixenstar _would be more than happy to have you three sooner rather than later."

The mud colored tom scoffed, "Yeah, I think I'll pass on taking a sibling. If I get confronted on the way back, Lark will only make it worse, then not help, and Hawk… well Hawk's Hawk. He won't do anything for me either."

Lark glared at Wren, clearly offended, but wisely kept her mouth shut. Hawk merely accepted Wren's words and looked ashamed at his paws.

"Alright. Be back by moonrise, if not, we'll come looking for you." Sandy said, nodding at the two.

Wren shrugged at Sandy before refocusing on Rosie. "C'mon, let's get you home now."

"Okay," Rosie purred, following after Wren as he led her out of the alleyway.

XXX

Darkness had fallen by the time Rosie and Wren made it to the twoleg nest. Crickets chirped and the moon was beginning to be prominent in the chilled night sky.

As Rosie prepared to jump onto the ledge that led into a hole in the nest, which Rosie referred to as a 'window', she said to Wren, "Thanks again, Wren. Be careful out there, Noel says those wild cats like to eat the weaker cats and sharpen their claws on their bones. Wouldn't want a wild cat to eat you, Wren." Rosie finished with a teasing purr, jumping onto the ledge and disapearing into the twoleg nest.

Wren rolled his eyes, "Naw, I'm too muscular for their taste!" He called out, a purr building in his chest as he heard her cry out in amusement. His gaze lingered on the window for a moment afterwards before turning back from Rosie's twoleg nest. A part of him wanted to jump in after her, ask to leave his alley life drama behind and just stay with her forever. But the other part, the larger part, was all pride. Never would he degrade himself in such a way, he'd told Sandy and his brother and sister that he would go live with the wild moorland cats, give their wicked lifestyle a go. Besides his mother, she lived in the woods most of her life, and though she never mentioned a clan, she would go on and on about how great it was. Perhaps he would like it just as much as she did; disease or no disease.

Wren glanced at the moon, his purr ceasing. Sandy said if he hadn't come back by now that all three of them would come looking for him. Flicking his tail in annoyance, Wren hurried back through the twoleg place, keeping to the shadows to avoid detection; he wasn't kidding when he said this wasn't a good part of the twoleg place. A lot of brutal, violence-loving alley cats hung around that particular sector of the twoleg place. The later it got, the more dangerous it was to be out, especially alone. It almost made him regret not at least taking Lark along.

Moving quickly, Wren slipped around dumpsters, his senses on high-alert. So far, no other cats or even dogs seemed to be out, a rarity he was grateful for.

He hadn't gone much further when he scented Sandy, Hawk, and Lark. They had come looking for him, which for once, he was relieved to see. Sandy appeared first, a look of irritation sprawled across her face, "Wren, get over here!" She hissed, "Addertail's got to be wondering where I am, and I don't want him coming all the way down here, or to think I'm bailing on him. Let's go."

"I'm coming!" Wren snapped back, stepping into view.

Hawk and Lark were silent when he rejoined them, which he was happy about; no teasing about spending time alone with Rosie. It was really the only thing tease-worthy about Wren in a sense.

Without another word, the siblings followed Sandy into the cover of blackness.

**Okay, so just in case you're confused, I'm going to do a little summary and clarification:**

_Rosie- A kittypet friend of Wren's_

_Noel- Another kittypet that lives with Rosie_

_Wren, Lark, and Hawk- Three siblings who were raised in the twoleg place_

_Sandy- A she-cat who's known Wren, Lark, Hawk, and Rosie for a long time_

_Addertail- A WindClan tom who Sandy has been seeing_

_Vixenstar- WindClan's leader_

**_RECAP:_**

_Wren, Lark, and Hawk go to meet up with Sandy and Rosie for a little update on the forest cats- a hot subject in the twoleg place. Sandy announces that she is joining WindClan, and invites everyone else to join. Hawk and Lark readily join. Wren doesn't want to, but does join, and Rosie does not join._

**Better? I don't know if anyone was even confused… I might just do a little summary for everything just to be safe though. Oh, and I plan on giving the allegiances in the next chapter. Thanks! (:**

**~Spotty**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2:

**_Forestclaw: Thanks! And Pride will come back one of these days, I'm just having issues getting where I want to with it. I actually have half of the next chapter typed up! _**

**RustyEevee: The next chapter will come out…. Now! And thanks, I try (;**

Although Lark would never admit it, her paws ached and her heart was racing with uncertainty. With every step the group travelled further and further from the twoleg place, and the thought made her fur fight to bristle. She gritted her teeth; leave it to her and her big mouth to mess it all up.

The wind that whistled in Lark's ears and the fresh scents of the moorland had her senses on high alert. The twoleg place wasn't anything like this; out there in the hilly lands, no unnatural lights to blind her, no monsters tumbling through, no lone dogs or alley cats to jump her, no nothing. Instead, the scents of rabbit, soil, grasses, and a light trace of dog roamed free. It was definitely different, foreign even, the smell of freedom.

Every so often, Lark would sneak a glance at her brothers to see how they were faring. Hawk looked determined yet nervous, which wasn't a rare occurrence for the jumpy, timid tom cat. Wren, on the other paw, was stoic, giving nothing away. No anger, no fear, no uncertainty. Nothing.

She wondered about what the so called clan cats would be like. If they would be wary, but accept their joining of the clan simply because of their situation, or if they would be warm and inviting. Lark suspected the first. It was in a cat's nature to reject change, and Lark and her brothers were change, they weren't born into that lifestyle. Lark could already feel the cold shoulders.

Though the dark-furred she-cat would never voice her fears to Hawk, nonetheless Wren, she wasn't afraid of letting them fester within her. The thought of new prey was the most terrifying to Lark. This would be prey, prey that wasn't scrawny, dirty rats or old twoleg garbage, and that was… unsettling. Lark's first bite of solid food had been a sleek, greasy piece of meat her mother managed to find in one of the dumpsters, and she preferred that over the disease ridden rats that Wren liked to hunt. Lark would rarely eat any of the rat that Wren caught, instead going for twoleg leftovers; it made sense, with Lark herself just being a leftover, a cat who wasn't good enough for a twoleg. She and her siblings weren't exactly cute and cuddly looking like Rosie and Noel, and her mother had taught her long before that if she ever wanted to be a kittypet, she'd need to really up the charm. Lark's mother told her herself that she believed Lark wasn't pretty, and Hawk and Wren weren't handsome, therefor, they didn't get the protection from the harsh alley ways that twolegs readily provided for their cute, pretty, handsome kittypets.

Lark and her siblings were fit for an alley, not a twoleg nest, and Lark was beginning to suspect that she wasn't meant for the moorlands either.

Anxiously, Lark looked up at the she-cat leading. Sandy had been slowly eased into the world of the wild cats of the forest, and now she was running with it full throttle. She'd insisted on Lark, Wren, and Hawk to call her 'Sandypelt', not Sandy. Lark regarded Sandypelt as an enigma, as she was beautiful. Sandypelt had a soft coat that was a popular color in kittypets, and her lively green eyes seemed to draw cats in. She had been born a kittypet, but left shortly after her kit-hood ended, saying that the life of an alley cat would suit her best. Lark felt resentment and envy grow in a pit in her stomach at the thought of Sandypelt getting clean water, food, and a warm, safe sleeping place every night, then just giving it all up. Although Lark would never dare to tell her brothers, she wanted that life, she wanted it so, so badly, to be a twoleg's kittypet. Rosie had it nice, getting to roam during the day, but have food and a bed waiting for her when dusk fell. She was certain Sandypelt had it at one point, too.

Lark's anxiety grew when more scents became accessible to her inexperienced nose. More cats were up ahead, and Lark wasn't sure if she wanted to really go through with going to WindClan anymore. She looked at Hawk and Wren, who trotted side-by-side. Hawk looked like he was getting anxious, but seemed excited all at once. Wren's stoic expression seemed to be cracking, bits and flecks of nervousness leaking through his mask. She breathed a discreet sigh of relief, happy to note that her brothers, even brave Wren, shared her anxiety. Lark watched them carefully for a moment longer, wanting so badly to be able to tell what they were thinking exactly.

Sandypelt eventually broke the silence, "Addertail should be around here somewhere." She glanced around, narrowing her eyes as she tried to look for the tom in the dark. "I bet that if I can't find him, he'll find us, what with all the new scents." She said, her voice a mutter as though trying to reassure herself more than anything.

Lark couldn't help but watch the sand-colored she-cat's whiskers twitch with nerves. There was so much to be nervous about, and Lark wondered if it was because she and her brothers were tagging along without warning. For once, the worry of being attacked by WindClan wasn't plaguing her subconscious; if the group was as weak as Sandypelt had been making them out to be, then there wasn't much to be concerned about. At the thought, she allowed herself to relax a tad. Though she wasn't the best fighter, Lark was confident that she could handle a few disease-stricken cats, especially with Wren by her side.

Another breath of wind brought forth a powerful, fresh scent of a tom, presumably Addertail. Lark looked up to Sandypelt expectantly, but she didn't seem to notice. She glanced at her brothers, but they hadn't noticed either. Lark blinked, questioning her nose; it hadn't ever acted up like this before.

The four kept trotting up the hilly moor, burs scraping at their pelts as they searched for the elusive Addertail. Every so often, Lark would catch bits of Addertail's scent, but she did not say anything to Sandypelt; she would not be taken for a fool if it wasn't Addertail.

Lark cursed beneath her breath when Sandypelt finally caught scent of what she'd been smelling the whole time. The older she-cat brightened. "Addertail!" Sandypelt breathed, her formerly hesitant steps turning swifter and purpose-filled. Her tail was curled at the tip and stuck up behind her like a flagpole. Lark felt a pang in her chest as she picked up her pace to keep up with Sandypelt's new dash; she wondered if anyone would be that happy to see her… perhaps her mother? Lark shook her head lightly. No, her mother left, and she wasn't coming back for her daughter or sons. It was over between them, yet it still burned as though it happened just moments before.

Clearing her head of the memories, Lark glanced up when Addertail's scent became impossible to ignore. A dark blur raced across the fields through the blackness that enveloped the land, the trademark features of a wild moorland cat becoming easier to pick out as he grew closer: the dome-shaped ears, skinny figure, long legs, and short fur. The images of the wildcats that Sandypelt had painted for her were finally coming to life before her.

Addertail halted gracefully, not tripping over himself nor the bothersome tangles of heather and the uneven terrain. No burs were rooted into his fur, and he was barely out of breath, leaving Lark in awe; she herself had never been a good runner. Perhaps because there wasn't any room in the alleyways to run to her heart's content?

"Sandypelt, you're late! I was starting to think you weren't coming." Addertail said, nuzzling the she-cat in greeting.

Lark looked uncomfortably at Hawk and Wren. Hawk awkwardly watched his paws during the exchange, and Wren observed the tom, looking him over as though trying to find cracks in his armor. Lark suddenly felt the urge to roll her eyes; it was so typical of both of them.

Sandypelt dipped her head in apology, "Sorry, Addertail, I was saying goodbye to some friends of mine, and well… I convinced them to give WindClan a shot. If that's alright with Vixenstar of course."

As if just noticing the three extras, Addertail scanned over the three siblings with mild interest. "Vixenstar's getting desperate, Sandypelt. Every clan leader is, I'm sure she'll let them have a run at clan life. What are your names?" He asked.

As always, Wren went first, "Name's Wren, don't wear it out."

Addertail glowered at Lark's brother, "If you're going to be a clan cat, _Wren_, you're going to have to learn respect. I do not tolerate tones like yours."

"Yeah, well we aren't staying, these two just need to get the whole idea out of their systems." Wren retorted snidely, a slight smirk coming onto his features.

Addertail snapped his head towards Sandypelt, "You thought this was a good idea?"

Sandypelt looked sheepishly at the tom, "Um…"

Hawk stepped in, "I'm sorry, err, Addertail is it? My brother can be a little… testy, at times. My name is Hawk, and Sandypelt told me your healer is dying, right? I am here to offer my services and play replacement towards your healer. I know my way around herbs."

At Hawk's words, Addertail's entire demeanor changed. His eyes glinted with a grateful desperation that made the younger tom shy away from the newfound attention.

"That's wonderful! How did you learn?" Addertail questioned, some wariness entering his features.

Hawk lightly shrugged, undeterred by the clan cat's skepticism. "Our mother knew quite a lot for a street cat, she was sort of the one everyone came to if they got hurt. I expressed interest in her work, and she taught me all she knew."

Addertail nodded in approval, most of the doubt in his gaze leaving as quickly as it came on. He turned his attention towards Lark. "And who are you, she-cat?"

Lark grew stiff with nerves under his eyes, a rare occurrence for the she-cat. She hurriedly shook off her frozen expression, forcing a cool, serene look onto her face. "I'm Lark."

The black tom looked her over, appearing unimpressed, "What are you good for?"

Lark couldn't help but glare a little at Addertail's rudeness. "I have a good nose," she said, an obvious edge in her tone.

She could almost feel Wren's smirk when he spoke, "Don't forget starting fights you can't finish."

The brown she-cat whipped her attention towards her brother, an intense glower settling on her face. "I can speak for myself, thank you, Wren," Lark said snidely, baring her still-white fangs as she spoke.

Lark _loathed _it when Wren acted this way, it was part of the reason to blame her sharp tongue. From the time they were kits sleeping under a dumpster with their mother, Wren had always found a way to get under his sister's skin, to embarrass her. The tom had a knack for getting Hawk and Lark in trouble and pointing out flaws; Wren was a bully, and Lark hated him for it, no matter how many times he'd saved her. Wren made being Lark's brother seem like a chore.

Wren padded to her side, his amber eyes glowing with a darker amusement. "Believe me, Adder-whatever, you don't want us here. I'm going to cause trouble wherever I go, Hawk is a pushover who can't work under pressure, and Lark… well, she can't hunt or fight properly. I suggest you take Sandy and go. We won't do your group any real favors." He said, staring challengingly at Addertail, as though baiting him somehow.

Lark stared at Wren, jaw agape. "W-Wren!" She stuttered, tearing her attention from Wren to Hawk, who wore the same stunned expression. Lark jerked her head back to Addertail in a panic, "That's not true, Addertail! He's lying! Hawk is brilliant, I… I have potential, I swear! And Wren... he's good for something!" She insisted.

Addertail didn't look fazed by Wren's accusations. "Even if what Wren said is true, it doesn't matter. Vixenstar will want to look at any potential WindClanners, Lark. You all still get a chance, alright?"

Both Hawk and Lark exchanged expressions of relief: their hopes were not dashed yet.

"Thank you, Addertail. I assure you t-that all three of us will be of use to your… clan." Hawk said, the kit-like excitement starting to overpower his seriousness.

Sandypelt purred at Hawk's glee, looking warmly at Addertail. "Should we go now? Vixenstar may start to worry if you're gone for too much longer."

The black tom nodded, beckoning the four cats with his tail as he turned and began going the way he came. "You're right, we should be getting going. The twolegs with the sheep let their dogs roam around at night sometimes, and even though Sandypelt and I can fight, we don't have a proper medicine cat."

"I can treat dog bites." Hawk mumbled, looking a little offended.

Addertail didn't acknowledge Lark's brother, instead picking up the pace to a quick trot. Lark tried not to let her fatigue show through as she struggled to keep pace. Irritation seeped through when she saw her brothers and Sandypelt matching the pace with ease while she had to force her aching paws to take each stride.

Wren especially didn't look like he was strained at all, stepping through heather and gorse without getting tangled up all the while keeping up with Addertail. Jealousy and resentment pooled in Lark's heart. Wren didn't deserve to have such thick, durable pads, muscled, toned legs, and a sleek pelt that didn't seem to catch on anything. Wren deserved thin pads, aching muscles, and a long pelt that tangled easily, he deserved no talent whatsoever, the dream-crusher. She was beginning to wonder if she hated her brother.

**Sorry I was so late on the update and for the shorter chapter! I posted the first chapter right before I had finals, so I was more focused on those then the story... and now I'm packing to go on my annual trip to Hawaii (I'm leaving Thursday morning). I will do my very best to update while I'm in Hawaii since I'm going to be there for a little over a week! Thanks for your patience!**

**~Spotty**

_Summary:_

Lark doubts herself as Sandypelt takes her and her brothers to meet up with Addertail. Wren insults Addertail and tries to make him and his siblings look undesirable to clan standards, but fails to deter Addertail. Addertail leads Sandypelt, Lark, and her brothers to WindClan.


End file.
